


Close your eyes, rest in my arms, it doesn't mean a thing

by DiDaydreamer



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Imprisonment, M/M, Mirkwood, Sibling Incest, Snogging, elf guards - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-03
Updated: 2014-07-03
Packaged: 2018-02-07 07:19:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1889937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DiDaydreamer/pseuds/DiDaydreamer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When they are in the elf dungeon, the guards finds it amusing to provoke Glóin, who is rather temperamental. Óin calms him down</p>
            </blockquote>





	Close your eyes, rest in my arms, it doesn't mean a thing

Dark and cold. 

Damp walls.

Little to eat.

Captured by elves.

Glóin was going to make a ditch in the middle of the cell with his back and forth pacing.   
Only taking a break from his stroll to slam his hands against the bars. Growling curses in khuzdul to the guards.

Said guards who found some delight and entertainment during the rather monotonous task of guarding the cells, by finding the best ways to provoke the temperamental dwarf.

Óin could not make out the soft words, coloured with a teasing edge, the elves were goading his little brother with. 

But he had no problem hearing his brothers enraged replies. 

Angry words laden with a desperation only Óin could recognize in his brothers voice.

Óin closed his eyes. Taking in the way Glóin's voice never wavered. Soon his brother would run out of words to throw against their captors, but his temper would still be a burning all consuming fire, urging him to go on ranting until all he could do was repeat the same insults and slam against the bars like a cornered beast. 

That might be the elves game, but not if Óin had anything to say in this matter. 

He heaved himself to his feet with a soft sigh. Reaching out to catch his brothers arm as he was on his way back to the bars of their cell.

“Leave it be brother, you're just giving them what they want”

Glóin deflated somewhat at the calming sound of his older brothers voice. The tug to retrieve his arm out of Óin's grasp is only half hearted. 

“I just can't ignore it brother, I can't listen to them insult our way of life and our heritage, and bring up old grievances between our folk like it happened yesterday, like we are somehow responsible for the actions of those long gone”

Glóin's voice became quieter as Óin began to caress the inside of his wrist, pulling on his arm until they were brought chest to chest. And Óin could slip his other arm around Glóin's waist, his broad palm warm and comforting on the small of Glóin's back. 

“It does not matter what they think, ignore their arrogance, and take pride in being who and what you are”

Óin's words is emphasized with kisses to Glóin's brow and the ruddy skin above his bushy beard. Each kiss making the tense sett of Glóin's shoulders melt away little by little.   
Glóin pushed himself as close to his older brother as he could, shoving against his chest to indicate that he wanted Óin to sit down.

Once seated, Óin ended up with a lap full of his younger brother. Glóin's fingers winding in his beard.

With a quick look towards the bars, Glóin made sure that the elven guards had lost their interest in their little game. Before he leaned down to claim his brothers mouth in a deep kiss, humming contently at the familiar taste and feeling. 

A feeling of calm settling in his body, chasing away all thoughts beside the comfort his brother always give him.

His moans and whimpers are muffled by Óin's kisses. Óin's fingers caressing the nape of his neck and tugging carefully at his beard. Using all the tricks he knows to calm and comfort his little brother.

The two of them trading kisses and touches.

Shutting out the rest of the world for just a little while.


End file.
